


Something old, something blue

by sweariwouldnt



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Absolute fluff, M/M, larry wedding, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 17:17:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8587060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweariwouldnt/pseuds/sweariwouldnt
Summary: Harry hides a thing from Louis until he doesn't anymore.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in years, never in this fandom, but this just sort of happened. Ahem. An unapologetic fluffy head canon because these two make me fluff.

Louis knows all of Harry’s hopes, dreams and fears. He’d love to say he also knows all of Harry’s secrets, but that isn’t quite true, sadly. See, there’s been one thing nagging on him for years; something he’s tried very hard to get Harry to confide in him with, but with no success. Throughout the years, Louis has learned to, at least on most days, live and accept that there’s one thing his Harry is still keeping from him. 

Louis mortal enemy is a battered, old blue notebook. 

It’s actually the first one of many notebooks he has bought Harry – the famous leather one Harry keeps telling everyone is in fact the second one. This ratty old notebook is a plain blue one – “ _This way you can keep getting lost in my eyes, Curly, without being quite so embarrassingly obvious_ ”, he’d teased, when they’d barely known each other for a few months but already felt like there’d never been a time where they hadn’t been a Harryandlouis, a universal combination of two separates that doesn’t make full sense until it comes together as a unit. Louis remembers the way Harry had blushed and muttered a quiet ‘thanks’ until tugging the notebook away in his bag. 

If Louis hadn’t been too busy falling in love, being in love and staying in love all these years, the lack of meeting the blue notebook again might’ve been troubling him more than the little bit it already was. Hell, he was an excellent gift buyer, especially for Harry, but for some reason the blue notebook stayed hidden aside from a few occurrences where Harry immediately rushed to hide it from Louis. “Please leave it, Lou”, Harry had mumbled only once when Louis had, not that he’s proud of it, thrown a rather impressively repetitive bout of ‘Showmeshowmeshowme’, followed by an admittedly low-blow of ‘You don’t trust me’. 

So for the sake of almost-marital bliss and peace, Louis did leave it, openly at least. Or perhaps Harry began to make sure the notebook stayed hidden more carefully. There had been an occasion, for which Louis really should receive at least a few awards mind, where Harry had left the notebook under his pillow in their bed whilst getting breakfast from a nearby café. Louis considers the way he touched the cover, hesitated, and then pulled his hand away almost like burned, one of the greatest accomplishments of his character, ever. There’d been just something about invading his boy’s privacy, the one thing he’d requested to be able to keep to himself, that Louis couldn’t quite carry through with. The secret of the blue notebook, and thus Harry’s, never stops it quiet occasional annoying jabbing in the back of Louis’ brain, though. 

Waking up on the day after your wedding has got to be the most blissful feeling there has ever been, is Louis first thought on such a morning. He hasn’t even opened his eyes yet, despite a whisp of hair tickling his face – menacingly controlled by what is surely his dear _husband_ , holy shit – but he already knows it’s sunny, rainbows and unicorns and Care Bears up on the sky, their almost-disgustingly romantic honeymoon suite probably blossoming in actual flowers. Finally being married to the absolute love of his life, of all of his lives if he were that way inclined, is nothing short of a universe-changing superpower that can twist reality into the very dream-like fantasy where it never rains again. 

…But suddenly there’s a very unfantastical, yet soft hit of something hard to his nose, followed by a chuckle and a raspy ‘Wake up’. 

“Nice one, Haz, way to fool me for years and once I put a ring on it, then reveal what a fuckface you are,” Louis groans whilst slowly opening his eyes and rubbing his nose, which luckily is not broken. No, it’s fine, it was barely a touch. 

“I love you too,” Harry smiles and flicks Louis’ nose. “My wake-up services come bearing gifts,” he adds and looks slightly flustered. 

We meet again, is Louis' first thought when he sees the blue notebook on Harry’s hands, his finger softly tracing nothings on the cover. Harry, now to be referred to as ‘the idiot I married’, lifts the notebook up and gives it a little brush of lips, then offering it to Louis. “This is for you, finally.” 

Their eyes meet, Harry’s looking a bit… embarrassed? Nervous? 

“Are you sure?” Louis asks, unable to tease or make a joke out of it. He knows this is something that Harry has held secret, held dear for years – even from him. It feels like he’s been given the highest compliment by the highest, most important person in the world – Louis guesses that, in a sense, he has. 

Harry nods, eyes glued to Louis’, with his hand softly rubbing Louis’ thigh. “Sorry you had to wait for so long, love.” 

Louis opens the book so very carefully. There’s scribbling on almost all of the pages, not full pages but a few lines filling mostly half of each page, some doodles – usually hearts, bless the sap. Flicking through the pages, Louis feels like he’s taking a trip down memory lane, seeing pages of Harry’s changing handwriting; the messy scribble from when he was 16 to the eloquent (he’d been adamant to practise until he felt like his handwriting suited his person, Louis remembers) texts of present-day Harry. There are dates above each page, sometimes there’s markings on consecutive days, sometimes there seems to be rather long gaps. 

Harry doesn’t say it’s dumb, doesn’t say it’s silly and Louis doesn’t ask what it is, he doesn’t need to, he realizes. Even after the most perfect yesterday, the most amazing wedding, a day that was an utter love fest, one he thought could never be topped in how exhilaratingly complete and happy and loved and loving he felt, is still a bit less of everything than what he feels now, reading the blue notebook, filled with Harry’s words of ‘If I could marry you today, these would be my vows to you”.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading, I hope you liked it x


End file.
